The forest thinned, and before them stood an ancient stone gate, half-buried in roots and moss. Runes glowed faintly on its surface—an arcane pulse that resonated with Lysara's elixir.
"This is it," Kael murmured. "The entrance to the Heart."
Riven stepped forward, hand on his sword, eyes scanning for traps. "If the legends are true, this is where the Veil began... and where we'll end it."
Lysara approached the gate, holding the elixir high. The runes flared brightly, responding to the energy within. The gate groaned, stone grinding against stone as it slowly creaked open, revealing a spiraling staircase descending into darkness.
As they stepped inside, the air turned thick, laced with ancient power and sorrow. Whispered voices swirled around them—not hostile, but mournful.
"They're memories," Lysara whispered. "Echoes of those who were lost to the Veil."
Down the steps they went, deeper into the heart of the curse. At the bottom, they entered a vast chamber filled with floating crystals, each glowing with imprisoned souls. In the center: a black crystal throne—and upon it sat a figure.
Clad in tattered robes, eyes glowing with the same cursed light, the figure stood slowly. "You've come far," it rasped. "But will you defy fate itself?"
Kael raised his staff. "If fate means surrendering to darkness, then yes—we will."
Riven and Lysara stepped beside him, ready.
The final battle was about to begin.